


Turn Time Off

by escapewithstories



Category: Major Crimes (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Slow Dancing, Tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:20:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22644784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/escapewithstories/pseuds/escapewithstories
Summary: A birthday present for my partner in crime. It's just some fluff that's inspired by a song of the same title.
Relationships: Andy Flynn/Sharon Raydor
Kudos: 22





	Turn Time Off

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IReadAndWriteSometimes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IReadAndWriteSometimes/gifts).



As she steps into the entryway, Sharon is surprised to not only find Andy home alone but the television off as well. When she left him shortly before lunch, he planned to spend the rest of the afternoon and early evening watching the baseball game with Provenza. If she remembered the schedule correctly—as if she could forget after Provenza’s constant reminders to not let their morning wedding plans infringe on his custody of her fiancé that afternoon—the Dodgers should be playing right now. Instead, Andy stood behind the couch, folding the load of laundry she had planned to do later in the evening, listening to music on his phone. 

Andy doesn’t turn or slow his folding motions as he acknowledges her. “Hey.”

She drops her keys on the side table and slides her shopping bags underneath it. Instead of returning the greeting, she asks, “Where’s Louie?” 

“Probably at home.” At her responding silence she knows he’ll interpret correctly without having to look at her, he only slightly elaborates. “Change of plans.” 

“What about the game?” Her heels have also made their way under the table, and she’s now closing the distance between them.

His pained expression is discernable, even from his profile. “The way they’re playing, there might as well not be one.” 

Sharon takes a quick survey of the room and notices the remote lying perilously close to the edge of the furthest couch cushion, and a corresponding impression in the adjacent throw pillow where it had bounced off of after he tossed it. He had thrown a similar fit the night before. The Dodgers rough patch had carried over from the week to the weekend, leaving Sharon to deal with her pouty fiancé.

She wants to chastise him again for his petulant behavior, but he looks so dejected when he finally looks at her that she can’t bring herself to unleash her irritation, not even in jest. Instead, she slides her hand down his arm, giving his wrist a placating squeeze and a sympathetic, “Sorry, honey.”

He sets down the shirt he’s just folded and catches her wrist, pulling her close so that he can properly kiss her. She relaxes into his light hold and draws the kiss out just a bit longer. Sharon feels his smile just before he says, “At least I didn’t have to listen to Provenza complain the whole time, too.”

Dread seeps in, and her shoulders tense. “Am I going to have to listen to him complain about abusing our _shared custody_ again?” 

Sharon’s nose crinkles at the thought. She hated Provenza’s implementation of the term. She had pointed out more than once that she was not Andy’s keeper, but that only encouraged her second in command to taunt her with it. It also fell on deaf ears when she mentioned that of the few times plans had been changed, it was because of work. She was still guilty by association. 

“Probably.” Andy’s shrug lacks the appropriate remorse.

The glare she levels at him still fails to conjure it, so she adds a thinly veiled warning in the way she says, “Andy.”

“What?” The arm he defensively tosses up barely misses her face, but Andy doesn’t miss a beat. “He _casually_ mentioned _several_ times between the server taking our order and the food arriving that he forgot to take care of something Patrice asked him to do last week. When he started hinting at punishments like the doghouse and sleeping on the couch, I kindly suggested we take a raincheck.” 

A breathy laugh replaces the chiding comment she had prepared. Having witnessed many such conversations herself, Sharon was certain that Andy’s only exaggeration was his “kind” suggestion.

“It's not funny, Sharon.” He’s the one scowling at her now. “He also made me pay for lunch since _I’m_ the one that cancelled.” 

This only makes her laugh harder. 

“Sure, laugh it up. After the deposits we made this morning, I could barely afford it.” Her laughter is his weakness though, and his stony expression starts to waiver. “I’ll be eating PB&J for the rest of the month.”

They both know this isn’t true, that he’s adding embellishments in hopes of earning a little extra sympathy from her. It’s a tactic she’s well acquainted with by now. Sometimes (very rarely if she’s honest), she’s able to avoid the temptation to indulge him. Tonight is not one of those times, so she presses a series of small kisses from his neck to his jaw in hopes of pacifying him. The way that he squeezes her hips let’s her know she hit her mark.

His voice is husky when he asks, “How was your afternoon?”

“The dress fitting went really well.” The smile in her voice is nothing compared to the one lighting up her face. “And lunch was even better.”

Patrice and Andrea had joined her that afternoon to offer their unbridled opinions about the dress (which mostly turned into them _ooh_ ing and _aah_ ing the entire time) and to help nitpick about some smaller details of the wedding that Andy had been less than helpful with. 

“Although—” Her smile loses some of its brightness. “Andrea had to leave early to catch up on some briefings her intern prepared for an upcoming case.”

“The kid does have a knack for creating more work for everyone else.”

She only acknowledges his dig at her son with a swat of her hand, but the mention of him has her noting his absence. “Where is he?”

“Out.”

Andy’s response is unexpected. When they left the condo that morning, Rusty was camped out on the couch, perusing Netflix, with no intention of moving from the spot the entire day. He had been pushing himself more than usual with the internship, so the night before she had _suggested_ he take some time for himself before the fall quarter started so that he didn’t burn out halfway through the term. To her pleasant surprise, he put forth little to no protest. This considered, she’s certain that _someone_ nudged him out the door. 

“How did you manage that?”

The cheeky grin he offers has her bracing herself for his answer.

“I told him I planned on seducing you tonight.” His hands dip below her waist and squeeze. “And I would not be subtle about it.”

“Oh, god.” Sharon presses her face into his shoulder, hiding the smile that will only inspire similar behavior in the future.

“Hey, I did the kid a favor.” His tone is downright smug now, and she struggles to balance her desire to both smack him and kiss him. “When I got home, he had his face crammed into some law book, and it looked like he had been at it for a couple of hours. I thought he was going to take it easy.”

She can’t really disagree with him; she just wishes his tactics were a little less crass. Before she can tell him as much, Andy releases his hold on her and begins scrambling to find his phone between the neatly folded stacks of undershirts. He only picks it up long enough to turn up the volume on a song she doesn’t recognize, and then he’s pulling her into his arms again, this time with the intention of slow dancing her around their living room, which had become a makeshift dance floor on more than one occasion.

They move in a slow circle, their steps not quite in beat with the music, but neither seem to notice or care. Andy’s hands are draped low across her waist, and her arms are trapped between their bodies, just below where her head rests on his chest. His hands have slipped just beneath the blouse she’s wearing, and his fingers are tracing tantalizing circles across the sensitive skin of her back. He intermittently places a kiss to the top of her head, and Sharon revels in the tranquility that Andy always manages to bring to these moments.

The repeated lines of the song partially register in her mind and draw her attention back to the music, but it’s coming to an end and she wishes she had been paying closer attention. There was a reason Andy had turned this particular song up, but she was too distracted to take notice of why.

Her head doesn’t lift from its resting place when she asks, “Will you play it again?”

“Of course.”

They had not moved far from the sofa, so it takes no effort for Andy to reach out and tap the rewind button on the phone screen. This time, Sharon makes sure she’s focused on what he’s telling her using someone else’s words. The message he’s sending is quite clear.

_Oh, love, your eyes shine brighter than the stars above_

_And I don’t have to search to find you cause I’m lying here beside you tonight_

_And it’s nights like tonight that remind me just how fast time flies_

_I can’t think of anything better_

_If I could make this last forever, I’d try_

_I’d tell the world to stop spinning around_

_I’d tell the stars to keep shining and the sun to stay down_

_Cause a night like this hasn’t come around in so long_

_I’d turn time off, then I’d turn you on_

Sharon knows that some days, most days really, their relationship resembles every romantic comedy she’s ever watched. She can’t deny it, but she doesn’t want to. She rather enjoys the levity it brings to her life. Although Andy’s lines are sometimes worthy of an eye-roll not even the sulkiest teenager could achieve, she never doubts the sincerity of them.

“Where did you come across this song?” she asks, wondering why he’s never played it before.

“It was playing at that swanky coffee shop we canvassed for that one case a few weeks back.”

It takes her a moment to connect the vague detail with the case he’s referring to, but she eventually remembers his diatribe about being ripped off for a cup of plain black coffee that tasted like tar. The thought of him saving playing the song for her to create this moment causes a fluttering sensation in her chest that threatens to overwhelm her, so she tightens her grip on his shirt to ground herself.

This time when the song ends, Andy shuts off the music completely and slides his phone into his back pocket, all without releasing his hold on her. “I got all the stuff for that Asian sesame salad you like so much and purchased that Tom Hanks/Meryl Streep movie you’ve been wanting to see all year.”

Some days, she’s not sure that she could love him more, but he always proves her wrong. Mostly in the small gestures like these, with one of her favorite meals and a movie he’d likely never watch if she hadn’t expressed an interest in it. It’s making sure her son is taking care of himself, while also carving out some much-needed alone time for them in the evening. The lyrics from the song float through her mind as well as his earlier words of promised seduction, and she thinks to herself he has outdone himself. 

“I should get changed out of these clothes then.”

He’s already walking her backwards towards their bedroom, wearing that grin that makes her weak in the knees.

“And I should help you with that.”

**Author's Note:**

> The song is Turn Time Off by David Myles and y’all should definitely give it a listen!


End file.
